Broken Bird
by MarcusJuniusBrutus
Summary: Hawkeye breaks his hand, and the team decides to cheer him up. It's not nearly as angsty as it sounds, but the title just fit. Rated T because, well, the Avengers can get violent.
1. Chapter 1

Super-powered tantrums never ended well. Clint could see this one spiraling out of control before the words escalated into violence, but it didn't help. As Iron Man and Thor bickered over the respective evilness of magic or science, Clint edged protectively towards the SHIELD scientists who were cowering in the corner of the laboratory, trying to make themselves as invisible as possible.

What Clint really wanted was an ensnarement arrow or two to net the two oversized and overpowerful children, but his bow was in his locker. The gun strapped to his hip wouldn't be any good unless he actually intended to shoot his teammates, but he didn't think it would come to that. They circled each other menacingly, trading barbs as Banner tried to calm them down.

"Come on, Thor, I thought you said magic and science were the same thing."

"I meant the kind that heals and protects. It is nothing like the science Stark and his kind use to destroy each other and Midgard itself."

Tony laughed bitterly. "Remind me to ask Fury to stop getting the Discovery channel on the Helicarrier. They've shown one too many oil-covered duck, if you ask me."

As this argument progressed, they pushed into each others' personal space and then started poking at each others' chests for emphasis as they spoke. This very quickly escalated into shoving and then hitting. "Please don't do that," Bruce begged in a last-ditch attempt to lighten the situation. "You know it's bad for my blood pressure."

He didn't look angry enough to Hulk out, but even if he had, Thor and Stark were far to engaged in their debate/fight to care. In fact, Tony may have preferred it. "Feel free to join my team any time, big guy."

Thor nodded mockingly. "You need the help, Stark. Your cause is as weak as your body."

Never one to back down from a challenge, Tony tossed his head and jeered, "Take your best shot."

Thor looked like he was turning away, but it was only to grab a desk and hurl it at Stark, swinging it like a shot put disc and letting momentum carry it across the room approximately at head level. Tony hit the deck just in time, leaving the scientists behind him exposed to the Asgardian's wrath. Clint fought the urge to run from the desk as well. Avengers shouldn't have to flee from furniture, he decided in that split second, not when it could really hurt someone.

Clint threw up his arms to absorb some of the impact but still felt himself flying back when it hit him. After a split second of disorientation, he found himself lying on the ground in a mess of damaged computers , pinned under the desk. Thor, Tony, and Bruce hurried to pick it off of him. Clint felt the instant release of pressure, especially from his right hand, which had ended up taking most of the weight. "Hawkeye!" Tony said, hauling him to his feet in clear violation of First Aid protocol. "Are you okay?"

Clint held up the quickly-swelling hand that was bent in an unhealthy direction… wondering how long it would be before he could shoot his bow again. "Not right now, I'm not," he said.

Their earpieces beeped, and Natasha's voice piped through the system. "I heard there's a commotion down there. What's going on?"

Thor and Tony exchanged horrified stares, and Banner went to help Hawkeye into a chair. "You two better start running now," he said. They didn't run exactly, but by the time the Black Widow had arrived with the SHIELD medics, the two perpetrators were long gone.

"Do you want me to kill them for you?" she asked with a heavy dose of seriousness to the question.

"Depends on the prognosis. Meanwhile…" Whatever he was about to say was cut short by a wave of nausea that doubled him over in his chair and left him retching onto the helicarrier's deck.

"Looks like you sustained a head injury in the fall," Bruce said.

Natasha spun on her heel and marched out the door. "I'm going to kill them."

Bruce hesitated, glanced at Clint, and decided the archer was in capable hands. He jumped to his feet and followed her out the door. "Wait for me."


	2. Chapter 2

[Author's Notes: Thanks, everyone, for the nice reviews. And so quickly, too! Now, I have a few ideas about where the Avengers will be headed with Clint for the next few chapters, but everyone can feel free to pitch in with ideas about where you want to see them go later on.]

"Here are my terms," Clint said, snug in his bed at the Avengers mansion. The fear of Avenger infighting had caused Nick Fury to boot the lot of them from his ship, but Stark was rich enough to afford medical attention for Hawkeye on the ground without SHIELD's help. "If you don't want me to send my favorite assassin to shoot you in your sleep, you will listen very carefully. First, as long as I can't shoot my bow, you won't use your hammer, and you won't use your armor." He spoke to Thor and then to Tony as he said this, gesturing with his purplish hand to make his point. "Second, you won't call me any fictional archer names. Not Katniss, not Legolas, not Robin Hood, not Cupid…"

"Cupid is not fictitious," Thor protested him. "He is one of the Olympians."

"…and definitely not the Green Archer," Clint concluded, ignoring the interruption. "Though I know that one's probably tempting you all right now."

Tony held up his hands in an attempt to placate him. "Hey, we wouldn't go there. Besides, you don't look so much like you're gonna hurl at any moment, now."

"So, do you understand my terms?" He glared at the two of them, and they nodded sheepishly.

"Sure."

"Verily. However…" Thor hesitated. "This arrangement will not be practical if we are attacked, or if your hand fails to heal."

Clint narrowed his eyes, intensifying his death glare. "You need to work on your bedside manner."

"We all will," Steve promised enthusiastically. "We'll all be here for you during your recovery, keeping you company. Staying positive is the most important part of recovery."

"Yeah, we'll all hang out with you," Bruce promised. When Tony screwed up his face into a regretful grimace, Bruce nudged him. "It won't be that bad. It's not like he'll destroy us all at paintball again."

"Which did nothing for my reputation, by the way. That and being seen playing paintball. What's next – bowling?" He patted Clint's shoulder. "I'll bet you could bowl left-handed, and even if you can't, you need the handicap."

"Why don't you start with something a little less physical?" Pepper Potts suggested, jotting notes in her ever-present planner as she spoke. "Maybe you could try a movie or a board game."

Clint seemed to ponder this. "I am very good at Risk."

"See, that sounds fun. I have to get to a board meeting, but I'll be back tonight to see who won." She waved a fleeting goodbye.

As soon as she'd disappeared, Tony sighed with relief. "Well, now that _she's_ out of the way…" He tore the blankets from Hawkeye's bed and pulled the archer to his feet. "Come on, get dressed. We're going out."

"I have a concussion."

"Nah, you look fine."

Bruce winced, but curiosity compelled him to ask, "Where are we going, Tony?"

"Where do you want to go? Keep in mind that I'm disgustingly rich and own a private jet."

"Sounds great."

Tony stared into his eyes. "I'm finding it impossible to gauge your level of sarcasm right now."

"Hey, we should invite Agent Coulson… now that we know he's still alive."

As Hawkeye struggled to one-handedly dress himself, he cocked his head and asked, "Didn't he leave us for another team?"

Tony nodded emphatically. "How dare he. I'll fly over and pick him up. Hey, Thor, you should invite your girlfriend."

Thor blushed to the roots of his flowing blond hair. "You mean Jane Foster? She is not my girlfriend. However, I will invite her, as well as Darcy Lewis and Erik Selvig. Will you arrange contact?"

The Black Widow held up her hand. "I'll help you with the phone call."

They followed Tony out the door. Bruce went next, saying, "I'll make us a playlist for the flight."

Steve was right behind him. "I'm going to check the Yankees schedule. Maybe we can make a game tonight."

"You a Yankees fan, Steve?"

As the door slid shut behind the last of his teammates, Clint sighed in exasperation and went back to trying to buckle his belt. "Thanks, guys."


	3. Chapter 3

[Author's Note: To "Guest": You were right to point out that I glossed over a couple continuity choices that I made, so just for you, I'm adding my explanations into this chapter.]

"They're in Sweden?" Steve moaned, once informed of their destination. Unfortunately for him, the plane was already in the air, and he wasn't one of the flying team members, so he couldn't just hop out.

Tony poured him a glass of scotch from the well-stocked bar. "Relax, Cap. Just enjoy the flight. My plane has got every luxury you could want, from flatscreen TVs to top of the line sound systems." He gestured to the speakers, where Bruce Banner was plugging in his iPod. Soon the questionable notes of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" were blaring through those vaunted speakers, much to Tony's amusement.

Steve shrugged and settled back into the admittedly comfy seat. "I was kind of hoping we'd make that ball game tonight." Formerly a die-hard fan of the Brooklyn Dodgers, but since that team didn't exist anymore, he was now growing pretty fond of the Yankees. It was either that or transfer his allegiance to the LA Dodgers, which he was too much of a New Yorker to do. And now they were going to a country where he couldn't even watch the Yankee's game on TV.

"This doesn't have to be a one-day trip, you know."

That was hardly the point, considering the Yanks were prepping to take down the Sox, but he tried an argument that he hoped would carry more weight with Stark. "Doesn't Miss Potts expect to see us back at the mansion this evening?"

"Forget Pepper. She's used to it." Tony toasted him with a glass of his own. "But if you're dead set on tonight's game, we don't have to stay in Sweden long. I doubt there's much to see there, anyway."

Thor, who'd been looking out the window, rejoined the conversation to contradict him. "On the contrary, it should be most enjoyable. From what I understand, that region of Midgard still holds onto old ties with Asgard."

"You mean, people worshiped you there."

"I am merely interested in seeing the similarities."

Natasha flipped through her phone, doing a quick Google search and mulling over the results. "We could try the Swedish Museum of National Antiquities in Stockholm." She turned it around and scrolled through the images page for him. "What do you think?"

"If Barton approves of the detour." He anxiously loomed over Clint's sleeping figure. Hawkeye had conked out practically as soon as they were in the air, his good hand firmly clasped around the pistol strapped to his left thigh. (Though he was ambidextrous, he'd been doing a lot of lefty shooting lately, so the sleeping position looked pretty natural.) In any case, he wasn't about to object to their itinerary.

"Why not?" Then the music changed to a tune about Spider Man, and she glared at Banner. "Are you trying to get theme songs for all of us? If so, you should know that this one is taken by someone else."

"Yeah, well, my next choice was the 'Itsy Bitsy Spider.'"

Thor raised his eyebrows as he absorbed the song's lyrics. "Is there truly a man-spider here on Midgard?"

Natasha bobbed her red head in confirmation. "Another superhero. Strictly local. SHIELD's met him a few times, though."

When she turned to Coulson for confirmation, he was quick to throw in his assent. "Not a bad kid. Very concerned with doing right, but he's not always the most reliable or mature person in the city." He removed his sunglasses to wipe off a speck of dirt that only he could see, and then he shifted position so that he was facing Bruce. "Did you get Captain America's theme song on your playlist?"

Bruce frowned and considered his iPod. "I didn't know he had a real theme song, so I just went with the national anthem."

Coulson plucked his phone from his pocket. "I digitized it from some old film reels. Here, I can send it to you."

Steve Rogers buried his head in his hands with a deep shudder. "Not the 'Star Spangled Man.' Please, not the 'Star Spangled Man.'"

"I would hear this tune," Thor declared, slamming a hand onto his armrest, and Coulson was happy to oblige.

Natasha shook Hawkeye awake so he could enjoy the Captain's humiliation as the song played loud and clear through the jet. It took the entire flight to placate him, but just as Coulson and the Avengers were piling down the ramp, Tony got a new text with his new "Star Spangled Man" ringtone garnering howls from his teammates. Rogers shoved through them all and returned to the plane, looking very much like he would have slammed the door if he could find one.

Three figures were waiting anxiously at the bottom of the ramp at the semi-abandoned landing strip outside Stockholm. "Aww, that cast looks awful," said a dark-haired girl who was instantly shushed by the other two. Thor hurried forward to introduce her as Darcy Lewis, and the other two as Jane Foster and Erik Selvig. He looked mostly to Hawkeye as he spoke, recalling the purpose of the expedition.

"I remember Dr. Selvig," Clint replied. "He worked for SHIELD, remember? Then we were brainwashed together."

Selvig nodded sadly. "I left America to avoid those memories."

"I thought about doing the same."

Tony laughed and slapped Thor on the back. "Looks like your contribution to the project's a failure. And no one thinks the museum side trip will make it any better."

"Is this a competition?"

Everyone's eyes widened as they stared at the Asgardian. It was perfectly clear to the rest of them. "Obviously." He herded them all to the two stretch limos he'd had on standby. "The text is from Pepper. She's aware that we're gone, but never mind. Let's get this museum out of the way so that we can hit the clubs."

Jane bit her lower lip and leaned close to Selvig. "Is it really wise to fill this group with alcohol?" she asked.

Erik smiled briefly, probably remembering the time he'd been out drinking with Thor. Then he stared around at the assembled Avengers. "No, it's not. I'm sure we can find something in the city that's just as entertaining but not quite so intoxicating."

Darcy raised an eager hand. "I know! I've been checking the Internet for stuff to do when I get bored in the lab, and I found out that the Cirque du Soleil is in town." She accepted champagne from Tony with a flirtatious flutter of her eyelashes that caused Jane to take the glass right out of her hands. As they drove along, Tony called over to the other car to inform them of the circus-after-museum plans. There was a long pause, and Darcy said, "But if you don't like the idea…"

The others' voices piped over the phone. Steve's came with unexpected enthusiasm. "I think it sounds great!" he said. "A good old-fashioned show."

"Won't get too violent, either," Bruce added.

"Then we're going to the circus," Clint confirmed, sounding strained. "Should be fun."

They hung up, and Darcy squirmed in her seat. "Y'know, I don't think I believe him…"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

[Author's Note: Hope you all don't mind, but this chapter's a little longer. Also, MarvelFan, your idea sounds… interesting but doable. The character you requested will be making a cameo in a few chapters, so stay tuned.]

The museum trip, predictably, held little interest to anyone but Thor. It didn't take long for most of the team to give up and hang out in one of the galleries. Selvig eagerly continued to show Thor around. Jane stayed with them out of loyalty. Banner said he appreciated the fine arts.

But everyone else sat in the comfiest section they could find and tried to pretend that art didn't bore them to death. "I own art," Tony declared with the last ounce of pretentiousness that he could muster.

"I like to draw sometimes," Darcy said. "It's more like doodling, I guess… Hey, Hawkeye, can I draw on your cast?"

"Knock yourself out."

She uncapped a marker that she'd clearly brought along for just such an occasion and commenced the doodling.

Steve leaned his chin into his hand, with his elbow propped up on his knee. "Banner can't possibly be enjoying this."

Surprisingly, Tony was quick to turn on his friend, probably out of art frustration. "He's probably just pretending to be cultured," he agreed savagely, "to make up for the times he's the Hulk." He snatched the marker from Darcy to sign Clint's cast and then pass it on to the others.

"He was the only one of us who liked the schwarma," Natasha pointed out, adding a little spider to the cast. "Maybe he likes cultural experiences."

"I thought the schwarma was fine," Clint protested. "I was only unhappy because Loki was tied up in a corner staring at us the whole time. I mean, I know Thor wasn't about to bring him back to SHIELD… Ow. Easy, Tasha." The mention of Loki had caused her to stab more viciously at the cast, and he swatted her away with his good hand.

"Aren't you an art person?" Darcy asked Natasha. "You look pretty classy."

She smiled wanly but easily allowed herself to be led away from the subject of Loki. "I am very knowledgeable concerning art, and I can pretend to be interested when I have to."

After more of this sitting, they all finally agreed to leave the museum and go shopping until Thor and company had finished drinking in their fill of Norse mythology. They figured every major city had to have plenty of opportunities to spend any amount of Tony's money. "Don't spend it all on sunglasses," he teased Clint and Coulson, dialing Selvig to inform them of the plans. "You guys good?" he asked.

"Certainly. Thor was very easily recognized thanks to the news footage of the attack in New York City, and the, uh, armor. Now we're getting a private tour from a very impressive curator."

"Sounds awesome, but make Thor change into human clothes before meeting us again." He hung up and shuddered. "Something must be wrong with me," he muttered. "I didn't even _notice_ his armor."

Coulson nodded understandingly. "It's not so blatant when he leaves off the helmet."

"Must be it."

It didn't take them long to find a clothes store, but the outfit-making process dragged on as they all fussed over what they should wear to the night's performance. They decided it would have to be the right combination of dressy and casual, but they couldn't decide which outfits to go with. Thor and the others rejoined the company during this process, just as Tony was holding various shirts against his body with Darcy taking pictures for Pepper to scrutinize. Tony then texted his girlfriend to solicit her advice and waved Thor over.

"I see you got real clothes. Good. But now you need _better _clothes."

Thor narrowed his eyes. "I do not understand. What is wrong with the clothes I wear now?"

"Nothing, but they're not right for the occasion."

"Is a circus not an informal even?"

"This one's kind of different. A little more upscale."

"Too bad," Darcy sighed. "Do you think they'll have popcorn?"

Clint exited the dressing room in a dark jacket and slacks, a purple dress shirt, and his sunglasses. "All circuses have popcorn," he informed her.

"Would you believe I've never been to one? I feel so deprived."

"It's… definitely an experience. A different kind of culture. Not like those paintings at all, but I guess some people call it art."

"So you've been?"

"Uh, yeah."

She offered him a pair of purple-tinted sunglasses to match his outfit. "Well, we're getting popcorn. And cotton candy. And Thor and everyone are signing your cast. Hey, look at the paparazzi!" She waved at the photographers who were starting to swarm around the store's front window. "This doesn't usually happen to me."

"Then let's go say 'hey,'" Tony suggested with a self-satisfied smirk. "Who's coming?" Coulson and the Black Widow had melted into the clothing racks long before Darcy said anything. It didn't take Clint and Banner long to decide they'd join them. "Cap?"

"I'll smile and wave if I have to, but I don't want to do any talking."

"Thor?"

"Perhaps we should complete our mission here, Tony Stark. Then I will join you in greeting the native populace."

"Thor's friends?"

Darcy silently pleaded with clasped hands and a pouty look until Jane and Selvig agreed that they could stand in the background during Tony's photo op. Then they finished shopping as quickly as possible so they wouldn't risk the photographers going away. "Gather our team," Iron Man told Thor and Captain America. "It'll be good publicity for the Avengers. And don't _look _at me like that, Natasha. Your face has already been on the news with ours."

She scowled but didn't fight too hard as Thor manhandled her, Clint, and Bruce into the spotlight along with everyone but Coulson, who was still a secret agent. Tony cheerily fielded the questions as various news organizations started gathering to find out what this superhero team was doing assembled in Sweden. He did step aside momentarily to give the team an opportunity to speak when a reporter asked them about their powers.

Thor quickly seized the opportunity to talk about himself and declared, "As a prince of Asgard, I have long been a mighty warrior, stronger than my foes. Now, I also wield the power of thunder and lightning through my mighty hammer, Mjolnir." He hoisted it in the air and allowed electric bolts to crackle around it until Tony cut in, saying,

"He can also fly. Cap?" Steve shook his head, so Tony gladly carried on the introductions for him and the other shy team members. "Captain America is a supersoldier who was genetically enhanced by a serum that my father worked on back in World War II." He ignored Steve's frown, the one that said Tony was making everything about him again. "This is Bruce Banner. He turns into the Hulk, that green mean fighting machine that is also surprisingly loveable. Actually, the equipment he used when experimenting on himself was also from Stark Industries. Then here's the Black Widow…"

"…Who was also genetically modified, but not by the Starks."

"What, really?" Tony asked her, jaw dropping.

"Just a little."

"How'd that happen?" She smiled enigmatically, and Tony shook off his surprise. "Oh, and there's Hawkeye. He's an archer." There was a long, confused press murmuring, and Tony insisted, "But he's a really _good_ archer. Insanely good."

"Archers are valuable fighters," Thor added, shouldering his way next to Tony. "Besides which, I believe he is also skilled with other various weaponry."

After that, Tony steered the conversation to the general topic of how the Avengers cared about protecting the Earth. He also took a few easy questions about things like their evening plans. Then they made their escape and met up with Coulson at the circus, where he was ready with popcorn, cotton candy, and plenty of sympathy. He told them that overall the news coverage had been favorable, but he refused to go into any more detail than that.

They all settled into their seats to watch the performance, shuffling snacks between them. Clint passed on them. "Was it the news interview?" Jane asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "They were probably all Swedish news stations." She had obviously not noticed the American station names on the cameras. "I don't think anyone you know would see it."

"Everyone I know will see it. And they all know I'm good at what I do. Don't worry about it. I'm just not feeling great right now." The lights dimmed and he shushed her. Thor offered him a tub of popcorn, which Clint pushed away. That was probably why he was feeling so nauseous – the smell of popcorn. He tried to concentrate on the extremely familiar visuals of talented acrobats and contortionists working their craft. Strong yet flexible bodies drew a nearly constant stream of applause from the crowd.

After a while, he even started to relax and enjoy it. He still refused to touch the popcorn, but he was soon smiling at the show and let himself be caught up in appreciation of the physical discipline required to do their tricks. After it was over, he still had the nostalgic haze hanging over him as they shuffled out of their seats. "Thanks for suggesting this, Darcy," he said. "That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Actually, it was kind of nice." He paused and cocked his head. "You, on the other hand, look pretty retched. What's up?"

"You first. What wasn't as bad as you thought?"

"The circus." He scanned the circle of faces, expectant except for Coulson and Natasha, who already knew his full life story. "I, uh, grew up in one. It was pretty rough, but I guess it wasn't all bad. There were some good parts, too. I just don't always remember them. Your turn to share."

Darcy hesitated and ducked her head. "I was just going to say that now I understand why clowns freak people out. You weren't…"

"I was never a clown."

"Oh, good. Because that would've been awkward."

"As opposed to right now."

"Yeah, you know, maybe someone else should come up with the next activity."

"I have an idea," Tony announced, to everyone's alarm. "Suit up."

"This should be good."


	5. Chapter 5

[Author's Note: I'm again taking an opportunity to thank my reviewers, especially the ever-faithful Hope06. Cheers!]

The litter-plastered alleyway, swimming in murky darkness, felt familiar to the vast majority of the people present. "Why don't we get costumes?" Darcy asked, pulling on one of the three ski masks Tony had bought for her, Jane, and Selvig. The rest of the team was suited up in their usual battle garb. Clint had even temporarily rescinded his no-armor-no-hammer rule out of sheer bored curiosity.

"'Cause you're not superheroes," Bruce said reasonably. Then he turned to Tony, who was displaying a sheaf of papers. "Okay, explain."

Stark took his time to fix them all with a satisfied smirk. "I made us a scavenger hunt. We're dividing into pairs and stopping crime." Bruce snatched one of the papers and read,

"Mugging, Robbery, Attempted Murder…"

"These are the crimes we have to stop. The one who has the most crossed off by morning wins."

Erik recoiled as a rat scurried out from behind a dumpster. "You could have told us all this back at the hotel."

"Yeah, but this was more atmospheric. For pairs, I was thinking Thor would take Jane…" The Asgardian looped a protective arm around her shoulder, and Tony nodded. "Erik, you can go with Bruce…"

"Go Team Science!" Bruce cheered, pumping a fist in the air.

"…I'll take Darcy. Cap and Coulson will go together. And of course, that leaves Hawkeye and Black Widow. I wouldn't want to break up that duo. We'll meet in my room at sunrise tomorrow. Any questions? Good. Go!" He grabbed Darcy and activated his suit, and the pair of them went rocketing into the Swedish sky, her screaming in terrified delight. Thor followed hot on his heels with Jane in his arms.

The other teams started to disperse, but Selvig hung back uncertainly. "I have a question," he told Bruce. "What if I don't want to play vigilante tonight?"

"Well, we could always rent a movie instead."

"That sounds excellent."

xXx

"I've used SHIELD's network to tap into the local police station," Coulson told Steve as they hopped on their motorcycles and ignored the filthy glares the late-night shoppers were shooting at Captain America's extremely patriotic costume. "Reports are coming through as we speak."

"In English?" Rogers asked hopefully.

"Of course not, but don't worry. _Jag pratar lite svenska_."

Steve considered that. "If you're telling me you speak Swedish, excellent. Maybe you can teach me a couple phrases as we go."

Coulson nodded, but then he held up a hand as a report came through his earpiece. His body tensed, and he swiveled his bike in the direction of the crime scene. "It's a robbery."

"Yes!" He flushed in embarrassment. "I mean… How horrible."

xXx

A few blocks away, Clint and Natasha, doubling up on a motorcycle so that Clint didn't have to steer, sped toward an apartment complex that Clint directed her to. "I saw some really obvious dealers hanging out when we drove past earlier. If they're that sure of themselves, crime's gotta be pretty common in the neighborhood."

They parked next to the apartments and instantly heard yelling and something shattering. "That way," they both said simultaneously before bounding in the direction of the noise.

After they finished convincing a drunk college kid that he and his buddies really didn't want to be throwing empty beer bottles at his ex-girlfriend's window, Natasha said, "What do we mark this as?"

"Forget the list, Tasha. I know you hate to lose, but I think I'd rather stick here and make sure everything's okay."

"Do you think they'll be back?" the girl asked in distinctly American English from her now-open window.

"Dunno, but I'd rather not take the risk."

She nodded, some of the fear smoothing out of her face. "My roommate and I would feel a whole lot better if you two waited with us for a bit."

The long-time partners glanced at each other with wordless assent and then craned their necks to look up at the girl. "We'll come up and keep watch for tonight," Clint told them. "In the morning, we'll take you to the police station to make a report."

"If you think that's best…"

"I do."

"Then come on up, Avengers."

She shut the window, and Clint and Natasha exchanged another look. "I _thought_ she was awfully calm about inviting two black-costumed strangers into her apartment," Clint said. "Now it makes sense."

"Hurray for news coverage," Natasha replied, following him up. "I guess we'll have to thank Tony."

xXx

"Thanks, Tony,"

"No problem." As Stark held Darcy over the trashcan, he looked away politely and glared at anyone who looked at them funny. "So, you get airsick?"

"Not usually. That was more air than usual, so I was more sick than usual."

Tony supported the girl as they walked into the 24-hour café he'd landed next to as soon as she announced that she was going to be sick. "Why don't I get you a cup of tea and then call us a cab back to the hotel?" The hydraulics in Tony's Iron Man suit whirred as he sat down next to her.

Darcy smiled apologetically. "That's probably for the best."

xXx

"I do not see any crime, Jane Foster."

"What?" Jane shouted over the rush of wind.

Thor cleared his throat and bellowed back, "I do not see any crime, Jane Foster!"

The increased level of noise made her wince and turn her ear away. "Maybe there isn't any!"

Thor landed on a rooftop. "Is Sweden generally a peaceable country?"

Jane shifted her purse, avoided looking down, and gave a half-shrug. "It's seemed really nice to me so far. Maybe we should just call it a night."

"Nay, I would be ashamed to quit my mission."

"Then maybe we could try to spot crime from the ground. I feel like we could see it better."

"Perhaps you are correct," he conceded, flying them down to the ground.

They touched down outside a park, which Jane recognized as Tegnerlunden. She'd visited it before the Avengers' arrival to see the statue of Astrid Lindgren, one of her favorite childhood authors. She smiled as she mentally compared Lindgren's generous and adventurous Pippi Longstocking to the big blond man beside her. She smiled, took his hand, and began their moonlit stroll.

It may not have been in the spirit of the scavenger hunt, but Jane was sure the other Avengers would stop enough villains to make up for it.


	6. Chapter 6

[Author's Note: Okay, so that special requested guest star will appear in the next chapter. Meanwhile…]

"So that's the robbery done," Coulson announced, crossing it off the list with a flick of his fountain pen. "I'll bet we could easily get a cat out of a tree."

"Sorry, Agent Coulson, but the only mewing I hear is coming from ground-level."

Phil perked up. "You hear mewing? Good."

"You don't mean…"

"The list doesn't say how the cat gets into the tree." He heard the mewing then and pointed toward it. "This sounds like a job for Captain America."

"You have got to be kidding me." He paused. "You're not kidding." Coulson didn't drop his idiotic grin, and Steve slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Fine, I'll do it."

xXx

Clint stared hard at his Taboo card. This game would be easy for him and Natasha if it had a more violent theme. They'd worked together so long and shared so many secrets, getting the other person to say one specific word while avoiding a couple others should have been a piece of cake. The particular word he held in his hand was "Pigeon," something he hadn't ever killed or used as a weapon. As far as he knew, Natasha hadn't either, and it momentarily stumped him.

He cleared his throat and ignored the two college girls who served as their competition. "In a city, you see swarms of…"

"Aliens?" Natasha guessed.

"What? No. My code name is…"

"Hawkeye."

"More animals like that."

"Bird of prey. Klingon warship. Aliens," she insisted.

Clint growled at her. "They poop everywhere," he tried, hoping she wouldn't point out that aliens probably also pooped.

"Oh! Pigeons!"

He drew a card that said "New York City" and sighed in relief. "We fought aliens in…"

"Budapest!" she blurted.

The buzzer sounded, and Clint glared at her. "Seriously?"

"Sorry, Clint. I panicked."

"Panicked? You've faced down mob bosses and ninjas and a vengeful Asgarian sorcerer just fine. How does this panic you?" He waved the card close to her face as the competition took control of the other cards.

"Our turn."

xXx

As soon as the cab pulled up, Darcy went out to meet it, her stomach feeling calm but the rest of her feeling pretty humiliated. Tony hung back to pay for the tea, and Darcy exited the café digging through her bag to find her phone. She fully intended to text Jane with the full tale of her shame.

Just as she'd seized the desired object, her bag was ripped out of her hands by a running man. "Hey!" She charged after the thief. "That's my bag! Give it back!" Somehow, she managed to catch up and grab onto his sleeve, but he knocked her back. Then a thought struck her, she dove a hand into her jacket pocket, and pulled out her taser. She pulled the trigger and watched the culprit collapse onto the pavement, muscles jerking spastically, just as she heard the sound of metal footsteps approaching.

"Hey, Tony!" she crowed as Iron Man caught up. "I caught a purse snatcher! I mean, he was stealing _my_ purse, but it counts, right?"

"Totally counts."

"So glad I didn't send that text."

xXx

Jane wasn't thinking too much about her phone as she walked with Thor, but it kept buzzing so insistently in her back pocket that she nearly took it out in front of him, if only to turn it off. She hated to be rude by playing with it on their vigilante pseudo-date. Luckily for her, Thor perked up at the sound of running feet. "Wait here, Jane," he said, disentangling himself from her to pursue the noise.

She pulled out the phone and found about twenty texts from Darcy, describing the way she'd tased a purse-snatcher. Jane started to message back that they could talk later, but before she could hit send, a small body came barreling into her. She reflexively grabbed the body, dropping the phone in the process.

"Hold him!" Thor called, and Jane obeyed.

She looked down to find a squirming pre-teen with a spray paint can in his hand. "Vandalism, huh?" she guessed.

"Precisely. Well done capturing the culprit."

She tried not to laugh at the boy's absolute terror as he stared at Thor and shook all over. "I used to like Silly String, myself." She plucked the paint out of the boy's hand and shooed him away. As he ran, Jane grinned at Thor. "I don't think he'll be doing that any time soon."

"What is Silly String?"

"It comes from a can like this, only it's kind of squishy, and it washes away better. You spray it at people, or write with it. But spray paint can be fun, too." She shook the paint can and sprayed a heart on the sidewalk. "Here, you try."

When Jane held out the can, Thor hesitated but reached out to accept it. Before he could, a red, white, and blue blur knocked the can from Jane's hand. The culprit, Captain America's shield, bounced off a tree and ricocheted back to the owner. "Vandalism," Coulson said, crossing it off his list. "Let's go, Cap."

"Yes, sir."

The two of them straddled their bikes and rode off into the night. Thor and Jane watched somewhat shamefacedly. "How," Jane asked, "did I not see that coming?"

xXx

Bruce and Erik took their time deciding on movies and moseying back to the hotel. When they did, they found the building surrounded by police cars, their lights blinking madly. "You've got to be kidding me," Bruce moaned. "Maybe we should get out of here."

"I agree." Erik half-turned away but stopped as he caught a fleeting glimpse of a heavily-armed masked figure flitting between shadows as he ran away from the hotel. He took a few steps toward the alleyway that the man had gone down before deciding that was a terrible idea.

"Aw, man. Did you hear that?" Bruce asked.

"Hear what?"

"I was just listening to the cops talking on their radios. Sounds like a multiple homicide."

"Multiple? How many would that be?"

"They're still counting the bodies."

Erik strained his ears but could only hear a faint, static-infused murmur from the radios. "You have good ears." He stared at Bruce and added, "You also have green ears."

"I'll admit: a multiple homicide does make me angry…" The green started to spread across his quickly-expanding skin.

Erik took a step back and gulped.


	7. Chapter 7

[Author's Note: Yes, Sam, I'm still working on this story.

EDIT: Oops! I hadn't noticed that the asterisks I'd been using for section breaks weren't showing up on this site. I've re-uploaded this chapter how it's supposed to be, along with chapters 5 and 6. Thanks, MarvelFan for the catch.]

As the Hulk bounded away, Erik Selvig wondered not for the first time how he managed to keep his pants on, especially when his shirt had been ripped away by his bodily expansion. They were never even the same pants. Not that he minded. Indeed, it was rather convenient, but it still puzzled him.

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to ponder, because he had to dash after the Hulk to find out what was happening. Well, he didn't _have_ to, but he felt responsible. He heard the sound of things being smashed, and he wanted to stop it if he could. How did one talk down a Hulk? He scurried into the alleyway after the morphed Bruce Banner, intent on finding the answer to just that question.

When he arrived, he found the masked figure from the hotel dodging Hulk's blows with surprising agility while singing "Eye of the Tiger." He was also shooting Hulk whenever he had a second to spare. If he ran out of bullets or guns (which seemed unlikely, considering the quantity of both strapped all over his body), he had two katanas crossed on his back. Erik assumed he was a supervillain of some kind, taking into account his superhuman reflexes and the skintight red and black costume/mask that he wore. This was clearly no place for a respectable scientist.

Hulk managed to land a blow, sending his adversary flying back into a brick wall and blowing out a sizeable dent. That knocked the breath out of the man, and he fell to the pavement with an "mmpf" sound. Then he sprang to his feet and clamored out of the way of Hulk's follow-up punch. Obviously, a knock like that would have killed a normal human, and Erik couldn't help asking,

"What are you?"

"A new character," the stranger replied brightly.

"A new what?"

He shrugged and cowered behind a dumpster. Hulk swatted it away. Then he said, "I'm complicated."

"Did you kill those people at the hotel?"

"Uh, duh. Just a bunch of mob guys standing between me and my target."

Hulk caught the guy pulled back his arm, and threw. The red-and-black man when sailing, and Erik gaped. "He was fighting the mob, Bruce. He might've been a good guy." Hulk growled, and Erik stepped back, holding up his hand in surrender. "But whatever you say."

xXx

A red and black-clad man fell from the sky and landed in front of the two motorcycles, causing Steve and Coulson to swerve before pulling to a stop. Though his entire body appeared dislocated, the man staggered to his feet, popping bones and joints back into place. "Super healing?" Steve guessed, and Coulson nodded, checking his handgun anyway.

"Wade Wilson?" he asked the man.

"That's me! Have we met?"

"I work for SHIELD."

"Ah." He dusted himself off. "Well, what's your beef with me today?"

Coulson shrugged. "No beef. We just heard reports of a multiple homicide in our hotel, and we were about to investigate. I guess you just saved us the trouble."

"Who is this guy, Coulson?" Steve asked under his breath.

Phil swung himself off his bike and propped it on the kickstand. "Forgive my manners, gentlemen. Wade, this is Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America. A supersoldier. Steve, this Wade Wilson, also known as Deadpool… amongst other things. A mercenary and a fellow genetic experiment. He also has this thing where he thinks we're all fictional characters. So, Wade, what'll it take for you to tell us what happened at the hotel?"

"Chimichangas," was the prompt response, "and lots of them. As long as I'm eating, I'm talking. Well, I talk whether I'm eating or not, but if I'm eating, I'll be saying things you want to hear."

Coulson nodded decisively. "Then we'd better find some Mexican food."

xXx

Summoned by frantic calls by Erik Selvig, Jane and Darcy dragged Thor and Iron Man into the limo where the scientist had decided to wait. People were allowed to enter the hotel again, but he didn't want the police listening to the conversation. "Bad news," he reported, swilling one of the beers in the mini-bar with shaking hands. He hedged around delivering the news and asked, "Where are the others?"

"They all said they were in the middle of stuff," Tony told him, "and they asked if we could handle the crisis. So what _is_ the crisis?"

Selvig grimaced. "Well, I may have lost the Hulk."

"_Lost_ him?" demanded the incensed superhero. "How?"

"Well… he jumps really well."

Tony grabbed his phone and bit back a curse. "Hey, Avengers," he said when Black Widow answered. "We need everyone."

"Oh, it's just you. We're busy."

The line went dead. "Well, how do you like that?"

xXx

"It was Tony again," Natasha explained through the radio, to the partner that was currently outside on the rooftop. At the return of the drunken ex-roommate, Clint had climbed up for a better view of the situation.

"Anything important?"

"Don't know. Don't care. What's the situation?"

"Two kids are going inside. Three, including the Ex, are out at the fire escape."

"You okay out there?"

"No problem."

Natasha's soft lips curved into a hard smile. Even though he was one-handed, she knew she didn't have to worry about Clint. Those boys deserved what was coming to them.


	8. Chapter 8

[Author's Note: I finally got over my writer's block! Yea!]

Coulson waved goodbye to Deadpool after extracting all the information the mercenary was willing to provide. Apparently, he'd been hired by one mobster to take out another. But he didn't like his boss and planned to kill _him _sometime, as well. Before Deadpool could completely disappear, he turned back curiously. "Is SHIELD going to come after me now?" he asked.

"Well, yeah, we kind of have to." Coulson shrugged. "Sorry, Wade."

"Aww, come _on_. SHIELD would scare away the guy who hired me, and I can't have that. Once I get paid for this job, I'll actually be able to make my cable bill for this month. I hate how it keeps getting switched off." He straightened as an idea struck him, and Steve thought that his face probably brightened underneath his mask. "I know! I'll give you some of that money I'm collecting. You can have everything but my cable money. Oh, and my rent, I guess."

"Nope. I can't be bought."

"Can you be bribed? Need someone killed? Tortured? Anything?"

"No, there's nothing you could possibly do for… On second thought, there is. See, I have this friend…"

xXx

At first, it wasn't hard to follow the screams of anyone who saw the Hulk. Then people stopped screaming, and the Avengers and friends all fervently hoped that meant he'd turned back into Bruce Banner. Unfortunately, there was no sign of him in either form.

"He'll be all right," Selvig assured an anxious-looking Tony Stark. "If anyone messes with him, he'll just Hulk out again."

"I know that," Stark said defensively. "I'm more worried that he'll get too embarrassed to come back at all. I feel like we should've found him by now, if he wanted to be found."

"He's probably just stealing some clothes," Darcy suggested. "Once he's found some, he'll probably call us from a payphone and have us pick him up. I speak from experience. Jane knows."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Look, if he's not back tomorrow, we can scan the area for gamma radiation. I'll bet he still has the signature."

Tony nodded quickly. "Right. You're right. We should go back to the hotel, in case he heads there." He still couldn't help scanning the area one more time with half-dejected hope. "Where are you, big guy?"

xXx

As soon as the five invaders were securely restrained, Clint reluctantly asked them, "Do any of you think you need immediate medical attention? The cops are on their way, but…" He was interrupted by the arrival of a red-and-black clad masked man holding a bulging duffle bag. "And who might you be?"

"Wade Wilson," he replied brightly, "and your partner'll vouch for me. The Black Widow and I go back a ways…"

Natasha shot him in the chest in response, and when he extracted the bullet, she curled her lip in disappointment. "He's right. We go back."

"And might I say, you are as lovely as ever, even without all your beautiful hair. This way, you look fierce."

Clint stepped up with a glare, his pistol aiming at Wilson's left eye. "The lady isn't interested, so I advise you to move along."

Wilson held up his hands in surrender. "Woah, woah. Calm down. I'm not here to pick a fight. Agent Coulson sent me. He said he had an archer friend with a broken hand… which, I have to say, is one of the saddest things I have ever heard. He said he wouldn't call SHIELD down on me if I could cheer you up, even for a little bit. I guess he figured we share some violent tendencies, and I might have a few ideas."

Clint's hand didn't waver, despite the futility of the exercise. "So far, you ain't doin' a stellar job."

They heard silence in the distance, and Deadpool went on, his voice speeding up even more. "I know, I know. I just had to explain. But, look, I have to go. I'm going to give you something, and if it cheers you up, you have to tell Coulson. If not, you can shoot me, and that should do the trick."

Even without looking at Tasha, Clint knew she was shaking her head in warning. But curiosity overpowered his good sense, and he nodded. "Okay, set it on the floor and push it over slowly.

Wilson set down the duffle bag and toed it in Barton's direction. Clint crouched over it, holstering his weapon and leaving Natasha to cover the suspicious masked man. He opened the duffle bag, peered inside, and felt himself shiver in delight. Inside, a beautiful, compact crossbow lay with a quiver of bolts. He pulled them out, realizing the compromise for what it was. It wasn't his usual bow, but it was the closest thing he could shoot one-handed.

His heart pounded as he eagerly fitted the first bolt into place. He fired off a quick shot at an empty beer can and watched the heavy tip slice through the aluminum. "I'm calling her Linda," he announced.

"So, are you calling Coulson?"

After slinging the crossbow strap over his shoulder and clipping the quiver to his belt, Clinton retrieved his first shot and went for his cell phone. "Mr. Wilson, you have earned it." He speed-dialed Coulson while keeping his longing gaze fixed on the smooth and delicate curves of the crossbow. "Phil," he announced, "I think I'm in love."


End file.
